


Goodbye

by xypeilo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, One Shot, jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xypeilo/pseuds/xypeilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco breaks up with Jean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself cry writing this.

I couldn't look at him in the eyes, I was too afraid. Afraid of what? I wasn't afraid of anything before, but at the moment, somehow I was completely terrified. I kept my gaze fixated on my hands; I picked at my nails, played with my straw wrapper--soon, whatever he was saying started to drown out entirely. My chest felt tight and my heart was pounding hard and fast. My hands were getting clammy; the dim light above us illuminated the beads of sweat which I was afraid he might see so I wiped my hands on my jeans. Suddenly my feet were too hot--I wanted to feel that satisfying feeling of peeling my socks off and letting the cool air immediately take over, but even the air in the room was humid. I was sitting nervously with my legs cramped together and my back at an awkward angle while clutching the worn so-called leather of my seat. I could feel a sore knot forming in my left shoulder and for some reason my jaw was starting to hurt.

I tried not to move. I tried not to fidget. Marco notices everything, and even with me trying to look calm and understanding--I knew he knew, and I knew he knew that I knew but he just kept on talking. My armpits were getting moist and I made a mental note not to raise my arm for whatever situation that required me to do so. My left leg started to bounce up and down as I grew impatient--then my right. I couldn't look at him in the eyes. I couldn't look at those goddamn eyes that I fell in love with the moment I saw them. Those calm, soft eyes that no longer looked at me the way they use to. Marco's eyes. Marco.

I'm sweating even more now. My armpits are definitely wet along with under my knees. I stretched my legs slightly, careful not to hit Marco's legs, and felt with my fingers the creases the sweat and heat left on my jeans. I took a shower an hour ago where I spent the entire half hour staring at the shower wall and thinking _wow, fuck my life_. You ever wonder what life is like after the Disney princesses get married? Happily ever after--bullshit. You're in this stage of infatuation until shit happens and at one point or another, one of you will get tired of trying--or you guys won't try at all. And with where my situation lies, he's tired of trying--and I just, I don't know what to do. I don't want to let go, yet I don't want to fight for what I want and come off as needy or weak.

I nodded my head automatically every time he said, "You know what I'm saying?" "You know what I mean?" "You understand?" _Yeah I know what you're saying. Just to get to the point, stop beating around the bush. Tell me already. It's no secret you're not interested anymore. Wait. No. Don't tell me. Don't tell me you're tired. Don't tell me you don't want me anymore. Marco, please. **Please**. _

A sharp knot swelled in my throat and my eyes started to sting. I didn't want this. I couldn't do this. _I don't want to hear it._ But I nod. I smile. The tone in my voice is soft and light. I respond with "Yeah, you're right." "I understand." "No worries, really." Marco. _Why? What did I do wrong? Why do you have to--why do_ I _have to let go? I don't want to let go._ He began to lose momentum and an awkward silence built up between us. I cleared my throat--I couldn't meet his eyes. I didn't want to meet his eyes. I looked at everything but his eyes. In fact I kept my gaze on some hefty bald guy's butt crack peaking from the top of his jeans as he cackled and snorted with his friends. _Why is this happening to me?_

“I want to break up.” The moment he said it, time stopped. My heart dropped, and my vision became blurry. My throat was too tight for me to swallow. I kept my gaze on that godawful view of this middle age man's ass crack. Marco saw my face. He knew how I really felt, and he knew I wouldn't stop him--because I'm weak. I'm so _fucking_ weak. Such a _fucking_ pussy.

"Jean." Marco's hand was suddenly on my wrist. He's staring at me, I could tell. But I couldn't meet his eyes. Not his. Anyone but his. Give me the devil, my shitty ex-girlfriend, my homophobic father--but not Marco. Anyone but Marco. "Jean, I'm s--"

"'S fine. Really." I stood up abruptly and cleared my throat, snagging my hand from his grasp. I glance as far as his shirt and smiled sloppily.

"'S fine." I repeated while averting my attention to my shoes and pulled up my pants that kept sagging. "I--don't worry about me. I always get emotional on the littlest things--" _Littlest things._ I forced a chuckle. "Don't worry about it. I'll get over it in no time, you know me. This isn't a big deal. So, yeah, hey, I--I gotta go it's getting late. I have work first thing in the morning." And then I walked out. I didn't even wait for him to respond--that alone was a red flag. _Now he's gonna feel guilty--now I'm the asshole because I'm selfish. Because I only care about myself--but in actuality I want Marco to be happy. So it's okay if I get hurt. It doesn't matter._

The cool air against my skin made everything a lot worse. Instead of being hot and sweaty, I was freezing my ass off--but I didn't care. I wanted to go home. I wanted to forget about all of this. I want to forget his eyes, his dimples, and the constellation of freckles from head to toe. No. I didn't want that. I didn't want any of that. I just wanted Marco. I wanted everything back how they use to be. I wanted it all back. _God, why are you so cruel to me?_ As I crossed the street to the parking lot, I felt my face scrunch by itself for hot tears to fall. I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my hand and sped walked a little faster to my car.

Before I put my key in, I stopped. The street lamp lit my face bright enough for me to see my own reflection on the car window. My face was obvious to Marco--I looked like shit; my eyes were puffy and my expression was just lost. I stepped back and squatted, covering my face with my hands--and cried. Tears and snot pooled into my hands--I was least concered with where I'd wipe them afterwards, because nothing mattered anymore. I leaned against the mini van behind me and sobbed as loud as I could. No one would hear me anyway--the plaza was noisy all day every day.

 _Marco._ I couldn't meet his eyes--I was too afraid. I was too afraid that I'd fall in love all over again. But I should've met his eyes. I should've told him how I felt. I sobbed harder at this thought. Now he's gone. I wont see him again. This is it--

"Jean?"

I snapped my head up and saw Marco standing between my car and the mini van. He was out of breath and his expression was hard to read. I quickly got up and tried to play it off, grinning like an idiot. "Oh hey. Yeah I was walking and I got dust in my ey--"

Marco charged after me and pulled me into his arms. He buried my face in his shoulder and at that instant I broke down hard. I clutched the back of his shirt roughly, breathing in the scent I missed so much. The memories of us together flooded my head--I wanted the good times back. Hell, the bad times too, because that's what made us stronger--we went through _hell_ together. 

"D-don't leave me." I hiccupped, my voice cracking like a prepubescent teenager. "D-don't--I'm sorry. I'm sorry--"

"Sh-shh," he kissed the side of my head while holding it in place. "Shhhh..."

"M-Marco." I sobbed. "Marco. Marco. Marco." Each time I said his name a heavy weight pulled my heart. Marco was here--Marco came back. _Did he change his mind? Of course he did thats why he's here._  He rocked me side to side and while trying to shush me.

"I love you, I'm sorry." I said. It was probably a bad time to say it. Maybe I shouldn't have said it. But I didnt care at that moment. I love Marco. I love him. I'll always love him. "Please don't leave me. Don't leave me. D-don't l-leave--"

"Baby," he said softly. I heard him sniffle as he ran his fingers through my hair. "Shhh. We'll figure something out, okay? Okay sweetie?"

I felt myself on the verge of hyperventilating. I couldn't tighten my grip around his torso any more than I already was. I nodded aggressively into his shoulder. _Yes. Give me hope. All I need is hope._

_Hope..._

I opened my eyes. I was still leaning against the mini van. I looked where I imagined Marco would be, but he wasn't there. He didn't chase after me. I put my head back against the car. The tears were gone but my heart ached incredibly. My hands were clammy and shaking. I picked at my nails and chewed on the inside of my cheek as I gazed at the night sky where the moon was nowhere to be found. 

 This was really it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be in hell if you need anything...


End file.
